Suicidal
by W.W.Brooks
Summary: AU. Things weren't going well for Annabeth. First, she walks past a building as it explodes. Then, she nearly gets run over by a motorcycle. But that's nothing compared to getting caught up in the affairs of the Olympian Revolutionary Army and a nearly suicidal 17 year old boy. Annabeth could understand many things, but she just couldn't understand that all he wanted was to die.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

It was just a normal day for Annabeth Chase. She didn't pay much of attention to the warning sirens because they were _always_ going off. The revolutionaries were getting bolder and bolder these days, straining the police and occupying forces to their breaking point. Annabeth herself saw no reason for the fighting; it was just pointless destruction. Better to accept Othrys's rule and try to lead a productive life under the new system.

No, the revolution was of no concern to Annabeth. It was of no concern, that is, until she turned down Armory Avenue, the road so brilliantly named after the giant military compound that dominated it. Glancing up at the brick and stone structure (a relic left over from the early days of the 44 year war) she admired the sharp lines and shape of the building, the strength of its presence, and how its massive roof seemed to defy all laws of gravity.

Or, at least how the roof defied the laws of gravity, up unto the point where it was blasted to pieces.

Annabeth could only watch in horror as the Armory exploded, bit by bit. Charges detonated along the sides of the building, blasting key structural supports to smithereens. The sirens redoubled their efforts, blasting their warning cries to the world. In what seemed like seconds, Annabeth's logical and orderly world was reduced to a pile of smoking bricks.

A new sound shook Annabeth out of her trance-like state. The chatter of machine guns caused her to look around worriedly for the source of the noise; she'd never heard actual gunfire before, other than the time her friends made her go watch that war film at the movie palace. The road in front of her erupted in a cloud of smoke, dust, and debris as the bullets sprayed the road. The lone whine of a motorcycle was the only other sound to stand out amongst the gunfire. As the motorcycle sound got louder and louder, Annabeth realized that it was coming towards her. A dark shape erupted from the cloud of smoke, causing another hail of bullets to erupt.

"Get out of the way!" the motorcyclist yelled, waving his one arm frantically. Not knowing what to do, Annabeth stood rooted to the spot in fear. At the last moment, the motorcyclist threw himself and his motorbike to the side, narrowly missing her. The bike toppled over, tossing it's rider into the street like a rag doll.

"Oh my god!" Annabeth cried. "Shit, shit, shit!"

The blonde headed girl ran over to the motionless motorbike rider, crouching over him. She unbuckled the rider's helmet, laying his head in her lap.

_He's just a kid,_ she thought to herself. _He's barely older than I am!_

The boy groaned and opened his eyes. with a surprised grunt, he threw himself away from her.

"Did you see?" he asked, holding a hand over his face.

"See what?" she replied. "Don't jump around like that—you could be hurt! You took a nasty spill on that bike!"

Another round of explosions rocked the area, causing Annabeth to duck her head, covering it with her hands. Someone grabbed her arm roughly, hauling her down the street.

"Let go!" she yelled, flailing out at her assailant—it was the kid. A loud cracking noise drew her attention to a large stone column, which creaked and groaned as it toppled over, landing on the exact spot that she had been kneeling on earlier.

"Get out of here and forget what you saw," the boy growled, shoving her none-too-gently into an alley. He promptly left her, picked up his motorcycle, and roared off down the avenue.

"There he goes!"

Soldiers and police officers sprinted past Annabeth's alley-way hiding place as she watched on in amazement. Her mind reeling with the events of the last fifteen minutes; she decided that it wasn't that great of a time to be around the Armory. Annabeth wasn't sure about alot of what had just happened, but she was damn sure of one thing. She was definitely going to have to take the long way home.

* * *

The next day, all Annabeth heard about at school was the attack on the Armory.

"They're saying it was a terrorist attack," her friend Silena informed her. "Carried out by Olympian Revolutionary Army; isn't that so exciting?"

"Silena," Annabeth said. "Twenty people were killed and more than thirty were injured during the attack."

"Ohmygosh!" Silena breathed, mushing the words together. "Really? That's horrible!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes and tried to move on with her day. She tried to focus on her lessons, but the face of the boy she'd met kept flashing through her mind. Annabeth had done the exact opposite of what he had wanted her to do. She had remembered the entire encounter in vivid detail.

She didn't know why the boy's face bothered her; Annabeth felt like she'd seen him before. But where?

The day dragged on like no other. Annabeth spent most of it agonizing over the previous day's events. Had he blown up the armory? Was he a terrorist? How could someone so young be affiliated with the Olympian Revolutionary Army?

"Miss Chase, would you care to answer the question?"

Mr. Cogner, the arithmetic teacher, brought her hastily back to the present. He was standing next to the board, long wooden pointer in one hand and an open book in the other. The problem on the board was easy; he was just being a jerk by picking on her when she clearly wasn't paying attention.

"X is fourteen and Y is seventeen," Annabeth answered politely. Mr. Cogner frowned.

"Yes," he replied, turning back to the board. "Yes, that is correct. Now, if we take the sum of the two squares…"

Annabeth's attention drifted away once again. She'd already taught herself this. And advanced geometry. And calculus. And abstract algebra. This class wasn't worth her time, nor was any other in the school; the consequences of being a genius.

The door to the classroom opened noisily. A student stepped inside and waited politely by the door for Mr. Cogner's attention.

"Yes, m'boy," Mr. Cogner asked. "What's the matter?"

"Message for you, sire," the boy replied, walking briskly over to the teacher and handing him a note. The arithmetic teacher took the paper and read it, frowning.

"Very well," he said. "Class, work on the homework for this chapter. I've got a telephone call to make."

Annabeth's heart sped up. There was something familiar about this messenger boy. She caught a glimpse of his face before he walked out; his eyes locking with hers.

It was him.

Annabeth felt her heartbeat increase. He stared at her with a blank, piercing stare, almost daring her to say something. She knew he remembered her.

"Mr. Jackson," the arithmetic teacher said impatiently, sticking his head inside the classroom. "Come along now!"

"Yes, Sir," the boy replied. "Very sorry, sir."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Everything is based off of the 1940's time period. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Annabeth did what any sane person would do. She got up quickly and grabbed the hall pass. The eyes of her classmates followed her as she got up from her desk and left the room. They wouldn't say anything to the teacher unless they were pressed for information but she was damn sure that they'd be talking about it later. St. Gabriel Preparatory School wasn't a very happening place and even little things like taking a hall pass without an instructor's consent was definitely going to be gossiped about.

It was just another one of the many things that was currently a source of frustration in Annabeth's life.

Another source of frustration to her was this boy. Jackson. She now knew why he had looked familiar; he too was a student at St. Gabriel. But why? Why was a terrorist attending a preparatory school? He certainly wasn't preparing to attend a university, or even a college, was he?

_Careful, Annabeth,_ she told herself, reaching the end of the Mathematics hallway. _We don't know for certain if he is a terrorist._

The blonde-haired girl rounded the corner towards the main office, where the bathrooms were also conveniently located. A quick look inside the office confirmed her suspicions. Apparently, during this hour, the Jackson kid was an office runner, someone who ran messages from the secretaries to the teachers and students.

To complete her ruse, Annabeth ducked inside the bathroom for a few moments. On her way back to the classroom, she noticed that Mr. Cogner was still in the office (talking animatedly on the phone) but the Jackson boy was not.

_Hmm, perfect,_ She thought. _I can sneak back to the classroom and none will be the wiser._

If she hadn't been so deep in thought, Annabeth might've had a chance to hear the person behind her sneaking up on her. But, as it were, nobody ever heard him if he didn't want them to. All Annabeth felt was the strange sensation of suddenly changing direction and the initial shock of being roughly pushed up against the cold, metal lockers. Prepared to resist, the blonde-haired girl looked up at her attacker crossly, only to see the familiar black hair and intense stare.

"I told you to forget about it."

"Yeah, well," Annabeth replied moodily. "You should've known that telling someone to forget about something like _that_ was pretty much impossible."

"I didn't mean to forget it physically," the Jackson boy explained. "I meant that you shouldn't get involved."

Annabeth looked up crossly at the boy, who was frustratingly much taller than she'd originally thought. "Get involved in what? Terrorism?"

She could see his eyes harden at the last word and she could feel his grip on her arm tighten. It was really starting to hurt.

"See? You clearly don't understand," he spat venomously. "You need to forget this and stay out of my way. Refocus on getting straight A's and keeping your room neat and clean, or whatever you civilians do."

"I don't have a clean room," Annabeth replied lamely. Almost immediately she realized just how stupid that sounded.

"And what happens if I don't forget it?" she added quickly.

"Then I'll have to kill you."

"Ha!" Annabeth scoffed. "And you'll get away with that?"

Jackson leaned in closely, smiling ever so slightly. "Easier than you think," he breathed quietly, so that only she could hear.

"Ahh, Perseus," a voice interrupted. The boy, (who was apparently named Perseus) leapt back from where he was cornering Annabeth.

"Master Brunner," he greeted. Annabeth pushed herself off of the wall, straightening her blouse and skirt. The man who had interrupted them was a gray-haired, wheelchair bound man with a kindly smile. His tweed jacket, frazzled beard, and horn-rimmed glasses gave the impression of a scholarly teacher, too busy with his studies to worry about personal grooming. Which, of course, he was.

"My boy," Mr. Brunner continued, "It's not very proper to threaten beautiful young ladies like Miss Chase here."

"You are aware of the situation, though," Perseus Jackson countered, standing stiffly at attention and staring straight ahead.

"Yes, yes I am," the man in the wheelchair replied. "And I will talk to her about it as I escort her back to her classroom."

"Very well, sir," Perseus replied. Nodding curtly to the older man, he turned around and went back to the office.

"One moment, Perseus!"

The tall, dark haired boy stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at the pair.

"There's a package for you in my mailbox; orders I believe. Do be careful with them, yes?"

Perseus nodded his head once. Annabeth watched him walk away, slightly mesmerized by the way he carried himself.

_He's just so… confident,_ she thought to herself. _There isn't a single boy his age who can carry himself with the same amount of grace and certainty._

She very quickly started to measure him up against every boy in the school, trying to figure out who would come out on top.

"He's a very determined and driven young man," Mr. Brunner said, noticing her calculating gaze, "which brings me to the topic at hand."

The older man began to wheel himself down the hallway; Annabeth fell in quickly alongside him.

"His name is Perseus?" Annabeth asked. Mr. Brunner grinned.

"I think he prefers 'Percy', but that's neither here nor there. Anyways, he told me about how you two met."

"Oh?"

Mr. Brunner stopped his wheelchair. "Miss Chase, don't play coy with me. Perseus, well, he's not your average seventeen year old boy. Please don't get mixed up in his business."

The blonde haired girl looked down at the old man, studying his kind face.

"It's a matter of your life," he continued. "If you could promise me to stay out of this and stay away from Perseus, I'd feel a lot better."

There was no way she could refuse him, even if she was just _dying_ with curiosity. One doesn't simply tell Annabeth Chase not to do something.

"Alright," Annabeth said. "I'll keep my distance from Percy. But, wouldn't I have to know what not to get involved in, if I was to not get involved in said activities?"

Mr. Brunner smiled. "And that's why you're my favorite student to watch. Miss Chase, you know what to stay away from. I'll take that last statement as a promise to keep away from Perseus and his business."

She hadn't realized it, but they had walked all the way back to her classroom. Annabeth stared loathingly at the oaken door.

Arithmetic.

It seemed so dull compared to everything else that was going on.

"Mr. Cogner is on his way here now," Mr. Brunner prompted. "In you go."

Annabeth nodded her head and opened the door. The eyes of the class followed her back to her seat but she didn't care. She was already focused on her newest task; finding out as much as she could about the Olympian Revolutionary Army. She didn't plan on going back on her promise to Mr. Brunner; quite the opposite. She planned on following the instructions to the letter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Two weeks had passed and Annabeth hadn't caught one glimpse of Percy Jackson. Something that was probably what she needed, but clearly not what she wanted. During the ORA attack on the Armory, Annabeth had gotten a small taste of excitement and adventure, a spice that paled in comparison to her now bland lifestyle.

The rest of the school had forgotten the destruction of the Armory. Instead, everyone was now talking about the arrival of Prince Krios, who was visiting as a "dignitary" and an "ambassador". Annabeth knew he was here to dictate the demands of the Othrys higher-ups. Still, they were able to spin it to their advantage, giving their agents royal titles that appealed to the romantic sentiments of the population. You could say what you wanted about the rulers of Othrys, but you couldn't deny that they had really good PR.

"Are you going?"

Annabeth looked around at her friends, as if she had just realized they were there. "Hmmm?"

"To the parade," Katie replied. "Are you going to come with us?"

"This weekend?"

Her friends rolled their eyes. "Yes," Katie said gently. "Saturday morning."

Annabeth shrugged her shoulders. "Sure. When and where?"

"We were thinking about eight o'clock on Third Street right by the TGM Bank Building."

The blonde-haired girl thought quickly about their choice. It was a good spot, right next to the newly constructed Prometheus Towers, home of Prometheus Oil. While the company's hands were rumored to be stained with blood (some speculated that they were the ones who persuaded Othrys to invade Olympia), the three towers were shining examples of the modern architectural age. Annabeth liked the buildings with their strong and sophisticated glass and steel look. At the very least, she could get a close-up of her favorite buildings.

"That sounds like a perfect place," she smiled.

* * *

The parade did not disappoint. Marching bands, performers, soldiers; even Annabeth was getting caught up in the moment. You could feel the excitement build as Prince Krios's sedan chair grew closer and closer; Annabeth did roll her eyes at this one. Calling the man a "prince" was one thing, but having him carried through the city on a giant litter atop the shoulders of twenty-some odd men was complete overkill.

That wasn't to say it wasn't an impressive sight, though. With a mass of soldiers in their white hats and smart uniforms marching perfectly in front and behind of the sedan chair, Prince Krios was a sight to behold. He was just about to pass by their spot when fate intervened and Annabeth saw something that made her blood run cold. She had to blink a few times to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her because marching in the group of soldiers behind the Prince was none other than Percy Jackson.

"Whacha staring at?" Silena asked, leaning over. Annabeth pointed to the dark-haired boy, marching in the center of the third row behind the foreign prince.

"Who, the soldiers?" Silena grinned. "That one's pretty cute, isn't he?"

"But he's not a soldier," Annabeth tried to explain. "He goes to our school!"

Silena frowned, turning back to the soldier. "He does look familiar," she said after a moment of thought. The pair watched Percy walk past them in silence, oblivious to the parade around them. Without even trying, the pieces of the puzzle fell together in her mind.

_If he's with the Olympian Revolutionary Army_, she thought, _and he's marching behind Prince Krios with a gun…_

Annabeth didn't need to finish the thought. Of _course_ the prince would've been a target! That's why the revolutionaries had been quiet the past few weeks; to get Othrys to let down their guard!

The blonde-haired girl looked around helplessly. What could she do? Someone was going to be killed! Percy was probably going to die too—

Without warning, a gunshot pierced through the sounds of revelry and excitement. Annabeth looked up just in time to see Prince Krios slump forwards in his chair.

* * *

Screams erupted from the crowd. The soldiers were mostly stunned, standing frozen around the now-dead Prince; Percy took this opportunity to complete his mission. Someone had gotten to the Prince before he could, but still had a task to accomplish. Whipping hand-grenades out of carefully concealed pockets, he tossed one into the group of soldiers behind him, one into the group of soldiers ahead of the prince, and a third one onto the prince's lap, to make sure he was dead.

The explosions rocked the area, causing the hysteria to escalate. Percy took off running, pushing his way through the crowds towards the Prometheus Towers. He knew where the bullet that claimed Prince Krios had come from. The Atlas building (the tallest of the three Prometheian Towers) was the first and most obvious choice for the sniper. No doubt there was at least a decoy there. However, based upon the angle of the shot, Percy knew it had to come from the Epimetheus building, the one that was still unfinished. It would offer the best opportunities for arriving unnoticed and escaping undetected.

"Percy!"

The dark haired boy continued to push his way through the crowd.

"Percy, wait!"

_It's that blasted Annabeth girl again,_ he thought angrily as he reached the fencing that surrounded the construction site. Slinging his M1 Garand over his shoulder, Percy climbed the chain-link fencing. Pausing at the top, he drew his pistol and aimed it at Annabeth.

The blonde-haired girl stopped in her tracks.

"I told you to stay away," he said. Annabeth said nothing. On impulse, Percy lowered the gun a few inches and put a few bullets into the ground around her feet. Holstering the gun, he dropped down onto the other side.

* * *

Annabeth was shocked. She'd hardly expected for Percy to pull a gun on her, much less fire it at her.

_He did say he was going to kill me_, she thought bitterly, watching him run over to the tall construction crane. Annabeth eyed the chain-link fence in front of her.

_This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever thought about doing._

Annabeth grabbed the fence and started climbing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Percy sized up the situation as quickly as he could. If the shooter was good, he would have been all packed up seconds after the shot had been taken. The best chance Percy had of catching this guy was to get to the top of the building and see which direction the shooter was escaping.

Next to the half-finished building sat a construction crane, holding a load of steel pipes roughly ten feet off of the ground. Percy mentally thanked the gods for this lucky opportunity and started running towards the equipment. All cranes operate using the same basic principles of counter-balance. Knowing this, Percy sized up the situation as he ran towards the crane; with a flying leap he grabbed hold of the steel piping, causing the whole thing to sway dangerously. Hauling himself up on top of the crane's load, Percy climbed up the ropes until he stood on top of the crane's hook.

_If I make this end of the crane unbalanced, _ he thought,_ the counter-weight should fall, propelling me up to the rooftop._

Percy drew his pistol, aimed, and fired at the ropes connecting the load of steel pipes to the crane's hook. The rope twisted and groaned before finally breaking free. The sudden loss of weight sent the crane's hook rocketing into the sky, helping Percy reach the top of the building in a little over five seconds.

As he drew level with the top of the building, Percy threw himself landing with a thud and a roll on the plywood-covered rooftop. He stood quickly, checking himself and his rifle.

_The gun's okay,_ he thought. _But I lost my pistol. Shit._

Shaking it off, the black-haired boy surveyed the roof. A pile of sandbags near the edge implied that he was probably right about the shooter being up here.

_But they would've had to get down just about as quickly as I came up, which is nearly impossible. So, they're probably still in the area._

Percy searched the area for clues, his eyes finally landing on a pile of harnesses, the kind construction workers and rock climbers use to make sure they don't fall into space.

_Three guesses as to how they're escaping,_ he thought, grabbing a harness and running to the far edge of the building. Sure enough, a long rope was dangling off the edge with a person at the end of it.

_Sure is taking that person a long time to rappel down the side of the building, _Percy thought. _They keep hesitating like they're scared of heights. No matter, it'll be easy for me to catch up._

Percy looked around quickly for another rope; finding one, he attached it to the same steel girder that the sniper had.

_Well,_ he thought, admiring the shooter's knot tying skills. _At least they know how to attach a rope to a pole_.

Percy threaded his rope through the belay loop on the harness, gathered the excess rope, and ran to the edge of the building. Peering over the edge, he sized up the situation. He was forty-stories off the ground-would he have enough rope?

"Guess we'll find out," Percy said aloud, tossing the rope over the edge. Without a second thought, he climbed over the edge and began rappelling down the side of the building.

* * *

Annabeth had only just managed to get over the fence in time to see Percy climb his way up onto the steel pipes.

"That kid has a death wish," she said to herself, watching in awe as he rode the crane up the side of the building. She had to blink twice after he had thrown himself onto the roof, to see if it had been a trick of the light.

It wasn't.

"Okay," Annabeth said aloud, making sweeping hand gestures. "Think! Obviously, the shooter was on the roof. But they're just as obviously not there anymore. So why is Percy going up there?"

Annabeth looked at the top of the roof for inspiration. "Because if he can't reach the shooter in time, he can see where they go—the building's the tallest thing around."

She continued to stare at the top of the building, frowning. "But if the shooter had to go all the way up, then they'd have to come all the way down. And it's obvious that they'd go down on the far side of the building."

The building was too wide to run around it in time. She'd have to try and run through it. Annabeth searched the front of the building for a gap, or a door. After a few seconds, she found a window without any glass in it. To her surprise, the entire building was still steel girders and no walls. Smiling, Annabeth took off through the interior in a run.

* * *

Percy had run out of rope. He had almost caught up to the shooter, who by this time, only had a three story lead on him. Tying off the end of the rope, Percy stood off of the wall of the building, suspended ten meters or so off the ground.

"Halt or I'll shoot!" he yelled, bringing his rifle around. The sniper didn't stop and kept running towards the cinder-block wall that stood in between him and freedom. Percy double-wrapped the sling around his arm to steady the gun. Taking aim, he fired a line of bullets above the shooter, stopping him in his tracks.

"The next one goes in your head," he yelled, "if you try to escape."

The shooter was frozen at the base of the wall, one arm still outstretched and ready to grab a handhold.

"Now back off of the wall and come right this way," Percy called out. "Hands where I can see them."

The shooter turned around and walked towards Percy. He felt a small surge of satisfaction…

…which quickly disappeared when the shooter threw himself sideways, rolling behind a pile of construction materials.

"Shit!" Percy breathed, shooting after the rolling figure. The clip popped out of the gun and clattered on the ground. Hearing the noise, the shooter popped up from behind the pile of construction materials and leveled a pistol at him. To make himself harder to hit, Percy pushed himself off of the wall, fumbling for another clip. The shooter shot five rounds at him, all way over his head.

_What on earth…?_ Percy thought. Then he felt the rope start to break. _ Bastard, _he thought, bracing himself for the landing.

The rope snapped and Percy fell to the ground with a thump, knocking the wind out of his lungs. The shooter walked calmly over to where he laid, aiming the gun in his face.

"Now put _your_ hands where I can see them."

Percy raised his hands, blinking away the dust from his eyes.

"Aww crap," he groaned, studying the face of the shooter. "You're a girl?"

Before the shooter could answer, a new voice cut in.

"No, she's an idiot. You both are."

The shooter-girl backed up a few steps, leveling her pistol at the new arrival.

"And who the hell are you?"

Percy turned to see who it was, groaning when he recognized her.

"I'm Annabeth Chase," she said, walking out of the building. "And two people who are on the same side shouldn't be fighting."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

The shooter took a few quick steps back, leveling the gun at Annabeth.

"Five seconds," she said. "Who the hell are you and what makes you think me and stupid here are on the same side?"

"I told you," Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. "My name is—"

"I don't give a shit what your name is, _girlie,_" the shooter growled. "Time's ticking. Why should I spare your lives?"

"Because," Annabeth sighed, exasperated. "He's part of the Olympian Revolutionary Army, just like you are."

"What makes you think that?" the shooter asked warily.

"Because you were both after the same target," Annabeth told her. _Geez, are all assassins this dumb?_

"You're the one who blew up the palanquin and the soldiers," the shooter said, aiming the gun at Percy now. The tall, dark haired boy lay propped up on his elbows, staring down the sniper.

"Yes."

"That's some dangerous close combat," she smiled. "You got a death wish?"

"Could ask the same of you," Percy countered, "Mrs. I'm-scared-of-heights."

The shooter leveled the gun at Percy once again and pulled the trigger. Percy didn't so much as move a single inch. He knew that based upon the angle of the gun, she wasn't going to hit anything vital.

The bullet tore through his uniform sleeve, nicking his arm. The sniper took two quick steps forwards and shoved the gun under Percy's chin.

"Either of you moves," she explained unnecessarily. "This one gets it."

The shooter grabbed the torn sleeve, ripping it off. Annabeth watched curiously as she inspected Percy's bicep. The shooter grabbed the bicep with her hand, cutting off as much circulation as she could.

"Is this really necessary?" Annabeth asked. Percy cast her a disapproving look.

"It's necessary," the shooter replied. Percy's arm was turning purple now and a cluster of symbols were starting to stand out on the skin. The darker his skin got, the clearer they stood out, like skin-colored tattoos. Normally they'd match his skin color but now that his arm was turning purple, Annabeth could read them clear as day.

O. R. A. P. I.

The shooter stood up with a gasp.

"_You're number one?"_

Percy got up himself, rubbing his arm. The symbols were starting to fade rapidly, now that he had his circulation back. "And you are?"

"Four," she replied.

"Okay, Four," Percy said cordially. "Good to know there's someone of your caliber in Ourea."

"I didn't think that anyone else was this close to Othrys," Four replied. "And please, I hate that title, 'four'. You can call me Thalia."

"Perseus," Percy replied.

"Well," Thalia said, gesturing to Annabeth. "Now that we know each other, who's this bitch?"

Annabeth's eyes widened in shock. "_Excuse me?"_ she asked.

Percy gave her a blank look. "This is Annabeth Chase, nosey bystander and thorn-in-your-side, extraordinaire."

"Should we kill her?"

"No," Percy shook his head. "I'll take care of her. You get out of here and get somewhere safe."

"Understood," Thalia replied, leaving. She ran the short distance to the fence, climbed over it, and was lost from sight.

"Let's go," Percy said, turning towards the fence. "We've already spent too much time here anyways."

"Wait a second!" Annabeth ran after Percy, who didn't slow his stride in the least bit. "You're just going to let all that _happen_ and not explain it to me?"

Percy turned on her, scaring her stiff. "You're not even supposed to be here," he growled at her. "I already told you to stay away or get killed."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "Then why haven't you killed me yet?"

Percy stared at her. "Because I don't have time to hide a body. Now get over the fence."

Annabeth watched him climb the fence like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Knowing he wouldn't wait for her, she scrambled up and over, ripping her clothes and scratching her hands. When she landed, Percy was nowhere in sight.

_Where the hell is he now?_ She thought furiously, weaving through piles of construction materials. Reaching the street, she realized that they were on the back side of the construction project, away from the main streets. _Everything's so abandoned over here._

Annabeth looked around, trying to locate the frustrating figure of Percy Jackson. Or was he "one"? She had no idea anymore.

"_There_ he is," she groaned, frustrated. He was halfway down the street, walking quickly towards a police car. Annabeth started to jog after him, and even thought about calling out his name, but she decided against it. Her intuition was telling her to be quiet. "What's he up to?"

Percy walked up to the policeman, who was busy talking through his car window on the radio.

"Yes, YES! I am in position," he exclaimed. "No, there's nobody here—its abandoned, like it has been for years. Yes, I'm keeping my eyes open, over."

It was no contest. The officer was outside of his car, leaning in through the open window—there was no way he could've seen Percy coming up behind him. The dark-haired boy waited until the officer stood up before making his move. Sneaking up behind him, Percy expertly flipped off the policeman's hat and dealt a quick double blow to his temples. The officer staggered for a second and then collapsed, unconscious.

"Oh my gosh," Annabeth breathed, covering her mouth. Did Percy just…_kill him?_

_Get a hold of yourself,_ a voice in her head chided. _He's clearly been knocked unconscious. Start acting like the Annabeth Chase who has a brain._

_It's been a long day, _she told it in reply, reaching the police car. Curiously, she looked to the other side of the car, where Percy was starting to undress the officer.

"What are you doing?" she asked, incredulous. Percy whipped his own shirt off and Annabeth turned away. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks—this was definitely a day of firsts. It was about this time that she thought that she'd seen just about everything. There was really nothing else that Percy could do that would faze her...

…and then she heard the clinking of a belt buckle being undone.

"Oh Holy Zeus," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. _Was he taking off the guy's pants?!_

When she finally dared to look again, Percy was fixing the officer's tie around his neck; the officer himself was now dressed in Percy's ragged Othrian Army uniform. He grabbed the hat and opened the car door, popping the trunk. Annabeth took this as a cue to get in the car.

"Kill a hundred men, assault an officer of the law and steal a police car, cause thousands of drachmas worth of damage to a major construction site," Annabeth groaned aloud. "Must be a normal day for Percy Jackson."

She watched in the rear-view mirror as Percy wrestled to get the police officer, now bound and gagged, into the trunk of the car. Finally finished he slammed the trunk closed, and walked around to the passenger's side, yanking the door open.

"Hold this," he said, laying a tommy gun and two spare clips on her lap. Annabeth shied away from the gun.

"Why?" she asked, touching it hesitantly.

"Because I can't do this with my hands full," he replied, pouring something out of a brown bottle into a handkerchief. He slapped the wet cloth over Annabeth's nose and mouth, holding it firmly.

Annabeth smelled the sweet smell of chloroform immediately. She tried desperately to pry his hands loose as she began to slip into darkness. Annabeth tried to fight it, but it was hopeless. she slumped back in the seats, watching the world fade away through closing eyelids.

* * *

Annabeth woke up hours later, in her bed. It took a few seconds for everything to process, and when it had, she bolted to her feet and out of the bedroom.

"Helen?" she yelled, storming down the stairs. She went straight to the kitchen, where her step mother, Helen, was preparing dinner.

"Yes dear?" the kindly woman asked, smiling at her step daughter. "How are you feeling, are you alright? You gave your father and I quite the scare, disappearing as you did."

Annabeth ignored her. "How did I get home?"

"Oh," Helen replied, turning back to her cooking, used to these rebukes. "That nice young officer brought you home—he said you'd had quite the scare at the parade and got lost in the pandemonium; Zeus knows everyone's shocked with the assasination and all... He suggested that you should stay around the house for the next few weeks to recuperate."

"I'm sure he did," she muttered under her breath. Helen didn't notice.

"I'm inclined to believe he's right," she continued. "Why don't you go back up to bed now, honey? I'll come get you when dinner's ready."

Seeing there was nothing else she could do, Annabeth did as her step mother said. By the time she'd actually reached her room, Annabeth could feel the tiredness seeping into her bones.

"I'll figure this all out tomorrow," she yawned, laying down. "I should have plenty of time, now that I'm under house arrest."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"I'm really glad you could come with us," Silena told Annabeth as they walked from the car. "We haven't been able to hang out for a while."

"Yeah," Annabeth replied, rolling her eyes. "Well, ever since the 'police officer' dropped me off at home, my mother has personally seen to it that I remain a captive in my own house."

"Ahh," Silena nodded. "The rest cure. I'm glad that my dad believes in the chocolate cure."

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "The chocolate cure?"

"Yes," Silena said. "The chocolate cure. Sad? Eat some chocolate. Happy? Eat some chocolate. Depressed? Eat some chocolate. Normal-kind of mood? Eat some chocolate."

Annabeth laughed. "I wish my parents believed in the chocolate cure. It must be nice, having a dad who owns a chocolate shop."

Silena shrugged her shoulders, getting in line with the rest of their friends. "It's got its pros and cons. The chocolate's great but it's no replacement for a mom or a dad."

Annabeth didn't know how to answer that one. Fortunately, she didn't have to.

"What should we see?" Katie interrupted. "Wait, Annabeth's here?"

The rest of Annabeth and Silena's friends all turned around to greet the two. "Hey, Hey!" Travis exclaimed, turning to greet the girls while slyly slinging his arm around Katie's shoulders. "Look who escaped house arrest!"

Annabeth laughed, partially at Travis's joke and partially at the way Katie was trying to discreetly slip the boy's arm off of her shoulder. "Tell me about it," Annabeth said. "The only way I could go to the movie palace tonight is if I swore I'd be back before curfew."

"Well," Katie said, "Let's get a move on, then!"

* * *

The group filed into the theater, slipping into the plush velvet seats. The news reel had just begun and the half-empty theater was already enthralled by the movie screen. Annabeth and Silena sat down next to Connor, Travis's annoyed brother. The two of them were starting to become close friends of the group, but mostly because Travis was trying to get with Katie. Connor got dragged along a lot. Annabeth liked him well enough; he was a little bit more adventurous and troublesome than the rest of the group; she figured that it was because he had a lot of free time and energy.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked. Connor raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?" he replied with a small smile. "I've been forced to watch another romance film by myself while my dipshit brother makes me pay for the both of us _and _Katie. I've got no problem paying for Katie, but,"

"I get it," Annabeth smiled. "Travis is using you. Sucks to be used by someone else, doesn't it?"

"And if he lands Katie," Connor continued, missing the bit of sarcasm. "I'll still be dumped on the wayside."

Silena raised an eyebrow. "Hold on there, what do you mean by if he 'lands' Katie?"

Connor sighed into his hands. "You know what I mean, Silena. I'm not saying he's using her—I think he's really hooked on her."

"One of the famous Stoll brothers?" Silena mocked, acting surprised. "A one girl man? That'll be the day."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Connor waved his hand. "Blah, blah, blah. Keep it down, will ya? I'm trying to watch the news reels."

Annabeth was about to retort, when something else caught her attention. Scenes of destruction flashed across the movie screen; Annabeth realized it to be the remains of the Armory.

_The O.R.A. continue to wreak havoc all over Othrys. The bigger cities, such as the mountain city of Ourea and the river-city of Hydros have been specially targeted, as has the naval base at Nesoi._

Images of buildings being destroyed flashed across the screen.

_Last week, _the announcer continued. _Prince Krios was assassinated by these terrorists, who call themselves the Olympian Revolutionary Army. _

Annabeth watched as Percy went into action, tossing his grenades and running through the chaos. She watched another clip of the Nesoi naval base being attacked by a solo aircraft, sinking one ship and destroying fifty or so aircraft. Silena nudged her.

"Remember that one soldier that you said looked familiar?"

Annabeth nodded her head. "Yeah, he was in the last clip. What about him?"

"I think I have the guy you mistook him for in one of my classes," Silena whispered. "Advanced Placement History."

Annabeth mentally rolled her eyes. Of _course_ it would be the one difficult class she wasn't able to get into. She was about to say something to Silena when Connor nudged her gently.

"Doesn't that first guy look familiar?" he asked, pointing to the screen. Five different mug shots were superimposed over the image of a burning building.

_Each one of these terrorists is to be considered highly_ dangerous, the announcer continued._ Please remember, folks, if you see something suspicious, report it to the authorities immediately._

Connor was pointing to the first picture, which had the heading of "Othrian Most Wanted," over it. As far as Annabeth could tell from the incredibly grainy photo, it was of Percy.

"What about him?" Annabeth asked warily. Connor shrugged.

"I dunno," he replied. "I think he looks a lot like someone in my lunch hour is all."

"What's his name?"

Connor shrugged again. "Perry Johanson, or something like that. Doesn't talk much but can whoop anybody's ass at any game we play."

_Sounds about right,_ Annabeth thought to herself. The news reel ended and the movie began to play—it took a lot for her to focus on the movie, though. It was something she might have enjoyed, if she hadn't been thinking all about Percy Jackson and the four other "Most Wanted" terrorists.

* * *

Percy double-checked the explosives, making sure the wires were all in order. The last thing he needed was to have _any_ of the charges fail to detonate, especially on this mission. It was going to be a long one, a few weeks at the least. Chiron would cover for him; pneumonia was always a good excuse. Percy was going to have to do some serious reconnaissance work to complete his mission this time.

_"Blow up a building?"_ he thought to himself. _"Easy. Blow up an research facility and escape with the new Pegasus aircraft? Well, that's a bit more difficult. Hiding this sucker is going to take some real work, but I think I know a place."_


End file.
